


Fathomable

by Salmon_Pink



Category: Disney Animated Fandoms, Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Community: disney_kink, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat threatens to overwhelm him, but it is the sight of her that affects Eric the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fathomable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Disney Kink Meme](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com), [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/361.html?thread=1498985) "Eric/Ariel, the weather becomes unbearably hot, and Ariel decides to wander around Eric's castle nude, having no concept of modesty. Turned on, Eric guides her into having furtive sex with him out in the halls, despite knowing he shouldn't".

He should not be doing this. Should not be approaching her, and for a sharp moment Eric finds himself caught, trapped in her eyes as she stares at him with absolute trust. Happy to see him, as if every moment in his company is something she’s spent a lifetime wishing for, and her eyes are indigo-blue in the dim evening light.

There is happiness within him as well. Already he has felt her absence in the brief hour they’ve been parted. But there is something else, something he recognises as _hunger_ , and it is fierce enough to drown his conscience in a roiling ocean of lust.

She is wearing the necklace he bought for her in the market. He’d presented it to her at dinner; he’d later explained to Grimm it had simply seemed the sort of thing she’d like.

He couldn’t bring himself to say out loud that the moment he’d lay eyes on the aquamarine stones surrounded by cascading pearls, he’d known it had been created for her, that its sole purpose was to be displayed against her skin.

She’s wearing it now. The necklace.

It is _all_ she is wearing.

And Eric knows, within the more rational part of his mind, that she is from some culture he has never known before, some place where the behaviour he finds so strange is considered quite normal. That perhaps, in this unknown culture, it is entirely natural to react to the oppressive heat that has fallen over the castle by stripping away confining fabric, by walking through the halls bare and unashamed.

But the hunger within wants to believe that this display could be for him, something that he can touch, and his hands reach for her waist without his consent.

She does not flinch away from the contact, and her skin is even hotter than the thick air that leaves Eric’s hair damp against the back of his neck.

She looks up at him, looks _to_ him, and he knows that she has loved everything he has shown her of his world. Even without sound, without speech, her excitement has glowed like a beacon, drawing Eric toward her.

There is more he could show her, and he knows that he should not, must not. But the heat is stifling and he is dizzy, swaying on his feet as if he has spent a month at sea and forgotten how to exist on land.

He lowers his gaze from the honesty of her expression, eyes dropping to the necklace, and for a moment his hands grip her waist more tightly, more roughly, to keep him from tumbling forward. The skin beneath the pearls is flushed from heat, and his hands raise of their own accord, slide up over her navel, fingers feeling the smoothness of the pearls where they drape between the curve of her breasts. 

A faint sheen of perspiration highlights the swell of her chest, and his fingers slip across the skin there, so soft, radiating warmth. The rich hue of the aquamarine contrasts the coral of her nipples, which grow peaked as his thumbs trace over them. 

He glances up again at the quick intake of breath. Her eyes are dark. Her lips are parted. 

He is not the only one hungry for this.

When his knees threaten to buckle, he simply lets himself fall. Kneeling in front of her, pressing his face to her stomach, breathing in fresh sweat and the deeper, more tempting scent of arousal beneath the dark red curls that brush his chin. His hands feel clumsy and heavy as he fumbles at his breeches, pushing fabric aside, his mouth open and moving restlessly against her skin.

He feels as though the very air itself is pushing down on his shoulders, holding him in place, and then delicate fingers curl against him, pull lightly at the fabric of his shirt. Eric follows their careful commands, letting his breeches fall around his ankles, until he stands face to face with her once more.

Her pupils are dilated, impossibly large pools of darkness framed by fluttering lashes.

He realises he is panting. So is she.

There are no words as he grips at her thigh, pulls her leg up against his hip. He is as silent as the mystery woman who has captivated him so completely. He guides her arm around his neck; she follows his every movement without hesitation. 

His shirt clings damply to his shoulder blades. Her hair has grown darker above her temples. The air seems to skitter and spark around them, alive with heat and something utterly, instinctively _animal_.

He wants to kiss her. Wants to taste her silent mouth, whisper promises against her lips. But right now he doesn’t deserve that intimacy, and he hates himself for being weak and a hypocrite as he presses her back against the wall.

He’d only sought her out to invite her for a moonlight stroll, to take a rowboat out amongst the shallows, to try to outrun the heat. 

But instead he is burning, fire dancing just beneath his skin as he pushes inside of her, slow and somehow already exhausted, trembling with effort. She gasps against his cheek, eyes closing, and he feels something lurch within him, has to brace his hand against the wall beside her head to keep his balance. 

The thought that he has gone too far, that he might have hurt her makes his chest seize, makes every breath feel like sand in his throat.

Eric needs her to need this as much as he does.

And when her eyes open again, he sees it. Sees the discovery, the awe, the sensation. The _hunger_. 

He exhales roughly, holds her hip steady with one hand as he begins to move within her, careful rhythm that pushes at his already frayed control. Her head falls back, hair a vivid shade of coppery red against the white walls. Throat exposed, face open, shocked and swept away by the feel of his lust. Her fingernails bite into his skin, and Eric presses his mouth to her ear, groans low and deep for her, and she shivers around him and arches her back for more.

Somewhere beyond the castle walls, thunder rumbles and the heavens open.


End file.
